Twelve years ago, if someone had told me that at age thirty-one I’d be a stay-at-home mother of three, with a husband and a dog…I would have laughed at them.
You see, I never wanted any of the things I have now. Being a mom was never on my radar, and marriage made me want to vomit. I am a child of divorce and our home was the complete opposite of warm and affectionate. I was a strong, independent girl who loved her freedom. I wanted to see the world, live in a big city, spend money on myself and come and go as I pleased. Life sure does have a funny way of giving us what we need, not necessarily what we thought we wanted.
I never wanted any of this.
I never wanted to have tiger stripes across my belly from it stretching housing three babies. I never wanted the pride that comes from delivering a human life. The idea of potentially delivering a bowel movement along with said human made me cringe and a tiny person’s bodily fluids all over me was not a fashion statement I wanted to make.
I never wanted any of this.
I never wanted to spend my evenings helping with homework or driving kids to practices. I wanted to work, go out for drinks, come home and binge watch my shows and go to bed when I felt tired. I never wanted to plan out a family menu for each week or care about making sure everyone hit their veggie intake. I wanted to work out, wear clothes that were the opposite of “mom-ish” and sleep in late on Saturday mornings.
I really never wanted any of this.
I never wanted to spend all day at a softball tournament, either freezing or trying to beat the heat. (There really is no in between with those things!) I never wanted to kneel on a sweaty mat cheering for my little boy to pin someone else’s son. And I really never even considered wanting to watch multiple music programs, attend poetry readings or go on Girl Scout field trips.
But again, sometimes we are given the life we need, not the life we wanted.
It turns out, delivering three babies is my greatest accomplishment to date. I’m the woman that shows when she’s eight weeks pregnant, is sick 90% of the time and gains an ungodly amount of weight. I have stretch marks covering my body and wardrobe screams “I’m a mom.” I typically leave the house with at least one spit up stain on my clothes and my hair does best while hiding under a ball cap these days.
You see I love sitting through tournaments on the weekends and the comradery that comes with being a softball/baseball/basketball mom. I could not be more proud of my children whether they are crushing the ball, singing for show choir or simply reading a poem in front of their class. There are tears every. single. time. I’m just bursting with happiness and pride.
At the beginning of the year, I walked away from a career I loved. I never wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, but its what works for our family in this season. There are daily snuggles, I can participate in most of the kids’ activities and still squeeze in my shows in the evenings. There’s even a mini-van parked in my garage that I can assure you I 1,000% never wanted. But the space it provides for our growing family? Remarkable.
So no, I never wanted any of this. I never wanted all of the titles I’ve earned in the last 11 years because I never knew how truly amazing it could all be.
From a little human saying “I love you, mom” or a husband who literally has my back through every phase of life. Some days I still wonder “what if” or get a tad bit jealous when I see friends jet-setting across the globe. But this life was made for me, and I was chosen to be the mother and wife to four humans who love me more than I ever imagined possible. God sure had to of laughed at my original plan because He knew just how much better it was going to be.
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